


Twist of Fate

by TomorrowWithNoRegrets



Category: Vinland Saga (Anime), Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: (additional tags will be added as soon as specific plot points are reached), Coming of Age, Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27441190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomorrowWithNoRegrets/pseuds/TomorrowWithNoRegrets
Summary: Askeladd is proud to have his life completely under control. But the death of distant relatives puts an end to his carefully planned daily routine. Suddenly he has to take care of six-year-old Thorfinn, who is anything but an angel and has made a firm resolution to not like Askeladd. When it is revealed to him there is another little boy searching for a new home, the chaos is perfect. For Canute does not even speak the same language as he does.I only take them in until they come of age. Then they have to leave!Askeladd is convinced of that. But feelings cannot be planned. And so Askeladd must admit to himself that he is beginning to like the boys...
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	1. Askeladd

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> This is my first Vinland Saga fic. I created this AU with my lovely friend Soul about a year ago and we have deeply fallen in love with it. I hope you enjoy it as well.  
> This fanfic will be long! The boys are 6 years old in the beginning but they will grow up, that's for sure.  
> It's very likely this fanfic will deal with some heavier themes in the later chapters. I'll add the tags as soon as the story reaches specific plot points.

Askeladd Castus hated surprises. He was proud to have his life completely under control. Since the beginning of his studies more than ten years ago, he had planned every stage of his life very carefully. He knew where he wanted to work before he had even finished his studies. He had calculated his final grade in advance, even before he took his last exam. Since the end of his school days, he had left nothing to chance. Neither at work nor in his private life.  
As a history teacher he now followed the same curriculum year after year. Sometimes this could be tiring, but it also represented a constant that he had wanted for a long time in his life. He was good at what he did. He enjoyed teaching. And he tried to make the lessons as interesting as possible for his students. This did not mean that he was particularly keen to have children around him outside of class hours.  
At 33 years old, he was still a confirmed bachelor and he was not interested in a relationship or in starting a family too soon, although there were colleagues who had their eye on him. A woman, he felt, did not fit into his plan. And if something did not fit into his plan, Askeladd would not let it happen. Other people fell in love. Askeladd would have to decide to fall in love before the condition could even occur. His life was planned from start to finish and that was exactly the way he wanted it.  
One rainy afternoon a completely drenched Askeladd entered the café in the city center to which he had been summoned. He felt extremely uncomfortable. Until about an hour ago, his life had been on an orderly course, but a phone call was enough to dangerously upset his daily routine.  
He had hardly taken off his coat when a young waitress approached him and wanted to lead him to an empty table.  
"No, thanks, I have an appointment," he explained succinctly, his eyes wandering across the room.  
The café was well attended, but he didn't have to search long to discover Thorkell at one of the tables. A giant like him was impossible to miss even in the farthest corner of the café. His jacket, in which Askeladd would have fitted into three times, hung limply over the back of a chair and dripped onto the red carpet. The man had made himself comfortable on a sofa on the wall and took it completely for himself.  
When their eyes met, Thorkell waved to him, showing his teeth. A pitiful attempt at a polite smile, as Askeladd assumed, for he knew that Thorkell did not feel like smiling at all.  
Thorkell was a distant relative on his mother's side. Askeladd had no idea what their real relationship was. He only knew that some ancestor of his mother had married some ancestor of Thorkell's family a little over a century ago. This alone had once been reason enough for their families to meet at least once a year.  
When Askeladd's mother was a young woman, she had met his father on the annual trip from Wales to Denmark. Later she had taken Askeladd with her to the meetings. Without the man she had met years before. But that was another story. These were memories that Askeladd did not want to let enter his mind at that moment.  
He hung up his coat on the coat rack; then he went over to Thorkell and let himself fall onto the second chair at the table, the one with no dripping jacket on its back.  
Thorkell was a few years older than Askeladd. The two had met years earlier at the aforementioned family meetings. At a time when Thorkell was still a teenager and Askeladd was still looking forward to an unknown future. Just as children do before the harsh reality finds its way into their innocent souls.  
For both boys, six years of age difference represented a big gap at that time. They had no idea what to do with each other. Askeladd had been a little boy for Thorkell, whom he saw once a year. Nobody of importance. And Askeladd had counted Thorkell, who was just as gigantic then as he is now, among the adults because of his size and had not considered him as a playmate at all.  
Only Helga, a girl his age, managed to make these family gatherings full of strangers more bearable. She was nice and they were about the same age, so they usually retreated to a corner and played together while the adults discussed things they didn't understand.  
Then, when he was just 14 years old, his mother died. And with her death the contact to Helga, Thorkell and the other family members broke off abruptly.  
Only as a young adult had Askeladd returned to Denmark. He could not say why he had decided to leave Wales after his studies and go to Denmark as a teacher. It had been a fixed idea that did not disappear once it was thought. In any case, he had already decided to teach in Denmark during his studies. And in fact he was hired.  
Back in Denmark, Askeladd was surprised to discover that Thorkell lived very close to him. More than once they ran into each other in the city center and Thorkell, who apparently no longer regarded him as the little boy from back then, had urged him very often to come to one of the family reunions. Askeladd had refused the offer every time, because without his mother at his side he didn't think he had the right to attend these meetings. They were only distant relatives. He did not belong with them.  
Since Thorkell didn't give up, he had finally accepted Thorkell's invitation to a Christmas party and bitterly regretted it. He had never really belonged to this family, but now, after all these years of absence, he was more alien to them than ever before. Even Helga, whose reunion he had secretly looked forward to, had slipped away from him. Although she greeted him like an old friend, she spent most of her time at the side of her husband and her two children.  
After that Christmas, Askeladd had never again responded to an invitation from Thorkell.  
Until that day.  
The waitress who had already approached him at the entrance asked Askeladd for his order and he asked for a coffee. Thorkell and he sat opposite each other in silence until she came back and carefully placed the cup on the table. When she had left, Askeladd took a sip. Only then did he speak.  
"So they are dead? My condolences."  
He knew he was tactless. He hadn't even greeted Thorkell. But he saw no point in wasting their time with small talk. Thorkell had summoned him for a reason and he wanted to know what this was all about as soon as possible.  
"They are." Thorkell emptied his own cup - the contents looked suspiciously like cocoa. - with one go. When he put it back on the table, Askeladd saw that his hand was shaking. He had never seen him so upset. "A car accident. All three were killed instantly. Thors, Helga, Ylva."  
At the sound of Helga's name, something in Askeladd ached uncomfortably. They had not had any contact in the past years, but to hear that she was no longer hurt anyway.  
"And the little one?" Askeladd wanted to know. He still remembered the baby in Helga's arms, the last time they had met.  
"He was lucky. Very lucky. He is quite damaged and has a concussion, but otherwise he is fine."  
He was fine? Askeladd had a hard time imagining that. He had lost his parents and his older sister at one stroke. The boy may have been physically fit, but he was certainly not well.  
"Where is he now?" asked Askeladd.  
"Still in the hospital. But they will probably release him soon."  
"And then?"  
Thorkell sighed. "That is the question here. They want me to take him in, but..."  
Askeladd took another sip of coffee. They came to the important part of this conversation.  
"I do not understand the problem. He has a grandfather who can take him in. Why do they want to burden you with it? You're just his granduncle."  
Thorkell laughed hollowly, leaned back on the sofa and crossed his arms.  
"Sigvaldi would never accept the boy. You noticed back then how icy the atmosphere was between Thors, Helga and him, right? He tolerated their presence, but never spoke a word to them."  
That was true. Askeladd still remembered that Sigvaldi had not paid any attention to the two of them at the Christmas party. This had meant that Thors and Helga had spent most of the time alone with their children. Ylva must have been 10 years old at the time. Their second child, Thorfinn, had not even been one year old. This little boy was now orphaned. Askeladd knew the feeling all too well. But he himself had been a teenager when it happened. And death had entered his life not surprisingly. He could only imagine how Thorfinn felt now.  
"Why don't you want him?" Askeladd tried not to make his voice sound too reproachful, but judging by the look on Thorkell's face, he had not succeeded.  
"Please, do you think I could raise a child?"  
Askeladd really couldn't imagine that. Thorkell, who had seemed so grown up to him, was in fact a free spirit and a child's mind. He lived each day as if it were his last, and although he was almost 40, there was a youthful glow in his eyes that he himself had long since lost.  
"I do not want to abandon him completely. I like being the cool uncle. But don't expect me to be a father substitute. Besides..." He stared and lowered his eyes. "Besides, I don't know if I could bear to have the boy around me every day. Helga was my niece after all. And Thors was a good friend. I just don't know if I..." He didn't finish the sentence, but stared out the window.  
A few minutes passed before he said something again.  
"If I don't take him, he'll have to go to an orphanage."  
"Likely..." agreed Askeladd while he stirred in his coffee.  
Thoughtfully, he watched as the rain pelted against the windows and people on their way home passed the café or ran in.  
"Unless you ...," Thorkell began a new sentence, but fell silent without finishing it.  
Somewhere out there was a little boy all alone. Askeladd had once been in this situation. But after the death of his mother there had been relatives in Wales who had taken care of him. He may never have felt truly at home with them, but he had known that there were people to whom he belonged.  
The little boy had no one. His grandfather did not want him. And that was exactly the problem. Sigvaldi was the head of the family and all the other family members were under his thumb. Askeladd had no idea what had happened between Helga and her father, but he knew that he had disinherited her. Apparently, even after her death, he was not willing to bury the quarrel.  
And everyone who considered taking Thorfinn in had to expect to suffer a real thunderstorm, if not even the same fate as Helga and her husband.  
Askeladd wondered if this was secretly the real reason that Thorkell was reluctant to take his great-nephew in. If this was the case, he did not want to blame him. Not him, nor the other family members. It was understandable.  
He sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. What should he do? He was the only one whom Sigvaldi could not patronize. So he could take Thorfinn in, but that would mean that his life, so carefully planned, would change completely.  
He had no idea about raising children! If the boy was a teenager, he could let him live with him for four or five years without changing too much of his everyday routine. But Thorfinn was six years old, and if he took him into the house, it meant that a lot of years would pass before he got rid of him. Did he really want that?  
"Are you thinking about it, Lucius?"  
Thorkell's voice brought him back from his thoughts. When Askeladd put his cup to his lips to take another sip, he realized that the coffee had become cold. He pulled a face.  
"Don't call me that. You know I don't like it."  
"Sorry, I thought that might have changed by now. After all, it is your name. You can't just take it off."  
No, he couldn't. It was on his I.D., on all the contracts and other papers he had ever signed. But unless it was absolutely necessary to use his real first name, he refrained from doing so. His mother had chosen the name carefully, she had loved it. But in the time after her death, Askeladd admitted, he had distanced himself too much from the ideal that his mother wanted to give him on the path of life with this name. At some point he had stripped the name off like an old piece of clothing.  
Thorkell considered him with a penetrating look. "So... what do you say?"  
"I'm not sure I'm the right man for this job.  
"Oh" Thorkell could not hide his disappointment.  
"But I don't want the kid to spend his childhood in an orphanage, either. Oh, God, I'll probably regret it, but I'll do it."  
The next moment Askeladd was strangled, for Thorkell had jumped up, bent over the table and pulled him into a tight embrace. The cups on the table clinked.  
"You are great. I knew you wouldn't let Thorfinn down!"  
Askeladd gasped. "Yes, yes, it's all right. Let go. People are looking and I can't breathe."  
Thorkell squeezed one last time and Askeladd was sure to hear his ribs cracking, then he sat down again. The big grin he gave him this time was real.  
"I will come by and help you from time to time! You don't have to bear the responsibility alone," he assured him.  
"Thanks" Askeladd sounded anything but enthusiastic. "I appreciate that."  
He should have suspected it. Taking in Thorfinn meant that from then on he had to maintain more contact with Thorkell than he cared to. Everything would change.  
But the knowledge that there was a little boy whose life had just begun and was already shattered into a thousand shards made him swallow his displeasure.  
"I will keep him until he comes of age. Then he goes."  
Thorkell nodded. "That's all anyone's asking of you."  
"And if he should prove difficult to raise, I'll throw him out before then."  
Askeladd had said this in jest, but Thorkell didn't seem to get the joke. His shocked face amused Askeladd and he decided not to clear up the misunderstanding. Let him think what he wanted.  
Askeladd stood up, put some money on the table and then turned to leave.  
"Keep me informed," was all he said at the goodbye. Thorkell, apparently still indignant at Askeladd's cold-bloodedness, did not answer.  
While he put on his coat, Askeladd’s head was buzzing. A child brought so much responsibility! He did not earn badly, but from now on he would have to shop for two people. Thorfinn would need clothes. Children wanted toys for their birthdays. And of course he had to go to school.  
Yes, Askeladd was proud to have his life completely under control. He hated surprises, but he was able to accept new circumstances and adapt to them.  
By the time he left the café and the rain was soaking his just dried coat again, he had already made countless decisions. He knew where Thorfinn would sleep. He knew which school he would send him to and he had already completely adapted his daily routine to the new situation.  
Highly satisfied with himself, he made his way home.  
Not knowing that Thorfinn was lying in his hospital bed screaming in sorrow and despair. Not knowing that elsewhere a young woman was breathing her last and her little son was crying bitterly for her.


	2. Thorfinn

Thorfinn sat on his hospital bed and was amazed. He was supposed to put on his shoes, but how could he think of that when the tallest man he had ever seen stood before him?  
Shortly after breakfast, a nurse had come into his room, put him in his clothes and told him that someone would soon come and pick him up. A little later this strange man had been standing in his room. He had grinned at him, but Thorfinn had sensed that his smile was not real. It did not reach his eyes. They looked sad, and somehow as if they looked through him and were seeing someone else.  
Thorfinn soon realized why. The man introduced himself as Thorkell and explained that he had been a good friend of his father and his mother's uncle, which made him Thorfinn's great uncle.  
Suddenly the man was no longer a stranger, for Thorfinn had often heard the name of his great uncle at home.  
In fact, Thorkell was the reason why he and his family had travelled to Denmark at all. A few weeks ago his mother had said:

_We can't always refuse Uncle Thorkell. We don't have a problem with him and he really wants to see us and the children again. Let's visit him._

But the visit should never happen.  
Thorkell started to pack Thorfinn's few belongings into a backpack that looked ridiculously small in his hands. Great-uncle was really exactly the right name for this great man, Thorfinn thought.  
His teddy bear had just disappeared into the backpack when Thorkell turned to him. Caught, Thorfinn tore his gaze away from him and returned to his shoelaces.  
"Can you do that by yourself?" Thorkell asked.  
Thorfinn rolled his eyes. Always the same question! The nurse from earlier had asked the same thing when he was supposed to get dressed. She hadn't accepted his clear yes and helped him to slip the sweater over his head. But he was already six years old and went to school. He was truly old enough to dress himself and tie his shoes!  
Well, maybe he had forgotten a few times how to tie a bow, but Ylva had shown him the other day and since then he could do it without any problems.  
Yes, his sister had shown him how to do it. You take the shoelaces and you make a knot ... and then you make loops ... and then ...  
Thorfinn could not bind them further. He could see nothing more, because there were tears in his eyes. When he swallowed, they rolled down his cheeks and dripped into his lap.  
He tried to calm down and to wipe the tears from his eyes, but he could not. More and more rolled out and in the meantime his nose was also running, so he had to sniff. In a few seconds his great uncle would tell him how sorry he was and that he understood how he felt. The doctor and the nurses ... they all did. He had heard it over and over again.

_Poor boy. I understand that you are sad._

_How terrible to lose your parents and big sister at the same time._

_Everything will be all right. When my father died, I was miserable too, but eventually it will get better._

_I am sorry._

Thorfinn wished they would stop doing this. No one knew how he felt! No one. How could they, when they weren't inside his head? He was tired of being pitied. He was tired of hearing the same words said to him only out of consideration. Even the nurse who had spoken about her dead father had no idea what was going on inside his head. Neither did he know how she had felt back then.  
For all of them he was just a little child who needed to be reassured and comforted. They believed that a few words would make his grief more bearable. They believed that telling him about their own losses would help him. But Thorfinn had understood in the past days that there were many different kinds of grief and that everyone had its own way of dealing with it. That was something that the adults did not seem to understand, because his reaction to the death of his family had left them deeply confused.  
When he woke up in the hospital and was told that he would never see his parents and Ylva again, he was expected to cry. But he had not cried. Not yet. He had been raving, kicking and screaming, so the nurses had a hard time calming him down.  
Later, he had heard two of them whispering that they did not understand his outburst of anger.

_What a strange child._

_Yes, a bit scary. He was screaming the whole time and didn't look sad at all, just ... incredibly angry._

_He did not even cry. Why did he not cry? That's not normal._

When he finally started to cry ... when the anger had gone and the grief for his family had overwhelmed him ... the nurses were relieved. They could handle a crying child better than they could a small monster lashing out. But since then Thorfinn has had to listen to the same sentences from the mouths of countless people. Now even Thorkell would tell him not to be sad. How he hated that. He would scream. Yes, if he did, he would scream again. He could no longer hear it!  
"Hey, there's no need to cry."  
There! He had known it. Thorfinn clawed his fingers into the blanket. He could not help himself. He was so tired. He opened his mouth, ready to scream as loud as never before, ready to kick Thorkell right in the face if he had to.  
"There's nothing wrong with not being able to tie your shoes yet."

Thorfinn could tie his shoes. It took him a few tries, but he managed without Thorkell's help. Now they were together in the city center and Thorfinn had a hard time keeping up with his great-uncle. For every step Thorkell took, Thorfinn had to walk five.  
"Uncle Thorkell?," he asked after a few minutes.  
Thorkell looked down at him. "Yes?"  
"How tall are you?"  
"2,30m," said Thorkell and patted his chest proudly. "Even Thors looked small next to me."  
Thorfinn had no idea about proportions yet, but he knew that his father had been a very tall man. That his great-uncle was even taller, he found fascinating.  
"Will I ever grow that big," he wanted to know and tried to reach for the backpack that Thorkell had thrown over his shoulder. Even on his tiptoes he was much too small to reach it.  
"If you take after your father, sure."  
"Dad was very big. Ylva too!"  
"Then maybe you'll be lucky."  
After this brief conversation, they continued on their way in silence. Thorfinn had noticed that Thorkell's look had passed through him again, so he said nothing more. Thorkell also mourned for his parents and Ylva, just as he did. And yet different.  
Thorfinn wondered if he felt guilty for inviting them. He also wondered whether he should be angry with him. But the anger he had felt after waking up in the hospital didn't return. How could he be angry with the man with the big, sad eyes? He was obviously just as miserable as he was himself.  
Thorfinn had never been to Denmark before. At least not as long as he could remember, because his parents had told him before they left that he had been here once as a baby. He had never visited a big city either, so he looked at the street they walked along with big eyes.  
So many people, so many stores and cars. Everything was loud and hectic. He was not sure if he liked it, but it was a new and exciting experience.  
"Uncle Thorkell, do I live with you," Thorfinn asked as soon as he had torn himself away from the sight of a large billboard.  
Thorkell sight, then scratched the back of his head. "No, you're coming to someone else. I'm just taking you to him."  
"To my grandpa's?"  
The thought that he might be taken in by his grandfather scared Thorfinn a bit, but he would never have admitted that. He had never met him, but whenever his parents had talked about him, the mood at home hadn't been good. He didn't know why his father's gaze had always darkened when he and his mother talked about him. He also didn't know why his mother cried after such conversations. But he knew that something must have happened and he didn't want to stay with a man who made his mother cry.  
"No, not to your grandpa. He ... he can't take you in."  
"Because he doesn't like mom and dad?"  
Thorkell did not answer. Thorfinn took this as confirmation of his suspicions.  
"Does my grandpa dislike me, too?"  
"Thorfinn, I really don't think I'm the right person to explain this to you. - You are coming to your Uncle Askeladd."  
"I don't know that name," Thorfinn said uncertainly.  
"He is a distant relative."  
"So he isn't my uncle at all?"  
"No, not really."  
He would come to a complete stranger! The excitement he had just felt about the new surroundings was blown away. It was replaced by sheer panic.  
Thorkell had known his father and mother well, and even though he had only met him a little over an hour ago, at least his name had been familiar to him before. He felt a certain attachment to him. He knew he could talk to him about his family. And when he talked about them, his situation didn't seem quite so hopeless, and it felt as if his parents and Ylva were still with him.  
With a complete stranger he would never be able to do that! No, he didn't want to go to this man, to this ... Askeladd. He didn't even like the sound of his name. It sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.  
He had to think of something else. He had to keep calm. They were not at his home yet.  
That reminded him…  
What would become of their little house in Iceland? So many things that meant a lot to him were left behind. So many memories that he didn't want to lose. Would someone clean out the house? Would everything be thrown away or sold?  
He was about to ask Thorkell about it when they turned into a narrow alley between two houses. At its end was a park, which certainly looked very pretty in summer. Now in November, Thorfinn thought, it looked dull and miserable and suited his mood.  
Scattered brown leaves hung from the trees, otherwise the tops were bare. Since it had rained the evening before, the meadows on the site were wet and muddy. In the middle of the park there was a small pond and a little further on there was a playground with a slide, two swings and a large climbing frame in the shape of a castle.  
Thorkell must have noticed that his gaze was caught on the playground, because shortly after they passed by, he said: "Askeladd lives near by. You will be able to play here often."  
Well, at the moment, on that wet and cold November day, Thorfinn was definitely not in the mood to play there and so shortly after the death of his family he couldn't imagine ever wanting to play with other children again. But he had to admit that the castle looked very cool. And so he turned around to it again before they left the park.  
Behind the park was a residential area. Tall houses stood close together, very different from the small village where he had lived before. But there were courtyards with trees and bushes, and Thorfinn knew instinctively that in spring you could hear the birds twittering here in the morning. As if to confirm his thought, a crow landed on a bench nearby and croaked.  
A few minutes later Thorfinn had completely lost his bearings and was sure that he would never find his way back to the park between all these houses.  
When Thorkell came to an halt in front of a three-story red brick house, Thorfinn's heart beat up to his neck. Here? This was where he would live?  
"Do you see the windows at the top? This is Askeladd's apartment," Thorkell explained, pointing to the top window. "He must be waiting. He has taken an extra day off today."  
Thorkell pulled a key from his pocket and opened the door.  
"I have a key to the apartment," he said while turning on the light in the hallway. "I don't live too far away and I'll drop in on you from time to time."  
"If you take care of me too, why can't I live with you," Thorfinn asked and could not prevent his nervousness from resonating with the question. The idea of living with this Askeladd was still uncomfortable for him. He knew nothing about him! Had his parents even known him? Would they approve of living with him?  
Thorkell again did not answer his question. Instead, he had already climbed the first steps. Thorfinn stood at the bottom of the stairs and felt terribly lost. His grandfather didn't want him. And Thorkell, Thorfinn realized in that moment, didn't want him either. At least he didn't want to live with him. Apparently he was only a burden for his relatives.  
Tears rose in his eyes again, but he swallowed them down bravely. He would cry no more. He would show no weakness in front of anyone anymore.  
Disgruntled, he followed Thorkell up the stairs. At the top he gasped for breath. Three stories were a lot of stairs if you had been confined to bed for a while.  
Thorkell patted him on the shoulder. "Nervous?"  
"No," Thorfinn lied and clenched his trembling hands into fists.  
"You don't have to be."  
"I'm not afraid," protested Thorfinn, but closed his mouth as soon as the door opened.  
Askeladd was much smaller than Thorkell and his father. He had a high forehead, which indicated that he was already losing some hair, but otherwise he looked quite young. And strict.  
Askeladd exchanged a few words with Thorkell, before he turned to Thorfinn. When their eyes met, Thorfinn held his breath.  
Thorkell nudged him. "Say hello, Thorfinn."  
But Thorfinn said nothing. He wouldn't greet this man, who only took him in because no one else wanted him. He was sure he had received something in return. Yes, exactly! If Thorfinn was just ballast for his own family, why would Askeladd want him here?  
Askeladd looked at him for a while, then said: "Come in"  
Thorkell went ahead. He was so tall that he had to retract his head to get into the apartment. Thorfinn stopped as if rooted to the spot despite the call.  
"What is it?" Askeladd had leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. "Are you going to take root out here, little one?"  
Thorfinn bit his lower lip and gave Askeladd a sinister look. "No, I don't," he said. "But I don't want to live with you either. I want to live with Uncle Thorkell."  
"I'm sorry, but that's not an option."  
"I don't want to stay here," Thorfinn tried again.  
Askeladd shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. Then I will tell Thorkell that you prefer the orphanage."  
Thorfinn opened his eyes. Orphanage? Orphanages he had only known from movies and books and in every story it was a terrible place where children did not live a good life. He definitely didn't want to go there!  
"Well?" Askeladd raised an eyebrow and looked at him waiting.  
"Then... do I really have to go to the orphanage?"  
"Yes”  
For a moment Thorfinn thought about simply running away. But finally reason prevailed. Whether he liked it or not, he would have to live with this man from now on.  
He took a deep breath, then stomped towards the door. Askeladd stepped aside and closed it as soon as he entered.  
Thorfinn had barely crossed the threshold when he had made up his mind to not like Askeladd and this apartment. Yes, he was firmly convinced he would hate it here. He missed the small house in Iceland, he missed his room and the garden. He missed Ylva and his parents. Everything was strange, everything was different and he didn't even think about settling in.  
At the beginning of the next year he would be seven years old. And he would grow fast. He would grow up very quickly so that he could move out soon. And when he did, he would not cry a tear after Askeladd.


	3. Approach

So that was the boy he would be responsible for from now on.  
Thorfinn was sitting opposite Askeladd at the kitchen table, a cup of cocoa in his hands, over the edge of which he looked at him suspiciously. The boy didn't like him. He made that very clear at the apartment door. And could he blame him? Certainly neither Thors nor Helga had ever mentioned his name. It was no surprise he'd rather stay with Thorkell than a complete stranger.  
When their eyes met Thorfinn took a sip of his drink so he wouldn't have to look Askeladd in the eye for more than a second. Thorkell next to him emptied his cup in three moves and seemed to not notice the tension that prevailed at the table.  
Askeladd sighed. He wouldn't have admitted it to Thorkell or Thorfinn, but he was overwhelmed. He didn't know how to deal with the child and he dreaded the moment when Thorkell would leave them alone.  
In the past days Askeladd had tried to prepare himself for Thorfinn's arrival. In his apartment, right next to his bedroom, there was a small room that had previously been used as a storage room. He had turned it completely upside down and threw away a lot of junk until all that remained was an old sofa and a desk from a time when he had intended to use the room as a study. Of course, the sofa as a sleeping accommodation for the boy wasn't a solution in the long run, but it would suffice for the time being.  
On the very day of his conversation with Thorkell, Askeladd had contacted the school and registered Thorfinn as a new student. He had decided it would be best to send him to the school where he was teaching. So he could drive him there every morning and keep an eye on him in between.  
After all that, Askeladd had tried to shop for groceries and for the first time he had reached his limits.  
He knew he was eating terribly. Most of the time he didn't eat breakfast. He only drank a big cup of coffee before he went to work. The rest of his diet wasn't exactly what you call balanced either. He was able to cook, but rarely felt like it, and far too often ended up eating junkfood.  
He coudn't feed a child like this, he was aware of that. But he wasn't used to shop for healthy food and soon his head was spinning. He had been so overwhelmed he had thrown the first best things into the shopping cart. In the end he had bought more unhealthy stuff than ever before. His refrigerator was now filled with pizza, lasagna and burgers. He didn't like to admit it, but he had failed right at the beginning. He, who always had everything under control and had pompously assumed that he wouldn't have a problem aligning his life with Thorfinn, had reached his limits.  
"Sigvaldi will surely have the house cleared out," Thorkell said at thismoment, thus bringing Askeladd back from his thoughts. "I can imagine he will travel to Iceland himself. If he does, I will join him."  
Askeladd nodded. "I suppose you want to get Thorfinn's stuff"  
"Exactly"  
Thorfinn put his cup on the table and gave a small, surprised cry. Then he fidgeted excitedly back and forth.  
"Uncle Thorkell, bring Teddy along, please. He is important!"  
Thorkell looked at him in astonishment. "But you aready have a teddy bear."  
"Yes, but he's new. They gave him to me at the hospital. Teddy is ... Teddy was once Ylva's teddy bear and later she gave him to me."  
"Oh", said Thorkell and tousled Thorfinn's hair. "Then I absolutely must bring him along."  
"Yes!"  
Askeladd watched the two of them with a strange feeling he couldn't name exactly. He wondered if he really was the right man for this job. Thorkell might be a big child, but he and Thorfinn obviously had a connection. They understood each other. Wouldn't he be the better option when it came to offering the little one a new home?  
He shook his head. When was the last time he had had such self-doubt? He certainly wouldn't throw in the towel already!

Thorkell stayed for a few more minutes in which Thorfinn happily chatted with him. A bit too cheerful, as Askeladd thought. The smile seemed to be written all over Thorfinn's face and he couldn't shake the suspicion the boy was faking it. Was it the fear Thorkell would leave soon? Or did it gnaw at him that his great uncle would leave him here with him, even though he wished to go with him?  
Either way, he had to feel abandoned by the whole world.  
And indeed, as soon as Thorkell said goodbye the mood changed. Thorfinn fetched his backpack from the corridor and then stood up sulking in front of Askeladd, who was in the kitchen putting the cups in the dishwasher.  
"Where do I sleep?"  
"Right here," answered Askeladd and led him into the room he had prepared for Thorfinn. He had put a pillow on the sofa and spread a blanket over it to make it look a little cosy, but it had been vain effort. The room seemed cold and empty.  
Thorfinn's eyes widened in disbelief. "Am I in prison? Not even the hospital looked that bad!"  
"I know it's not very comfy, but you'll have to get along with it until we buy you a bed."  
"A bed and... and everything!" Thorfinn threw his backpack on the sofa and then rowed wildly around with his arms, gesticulating into every corner of the room. "There's nothing in here!"  
Askeladd felt a headache coming. He didn't know what to think of Thorfinn's reaction. There were two possibilities. Either the boy tried to scare him away, hoping to move in with Thorkell, or he actually behaved in accordance with his character. If that was the case, then Thors and Helga had definitely messed up in their upbringing. Even a bachelor like Askeladd could understand that. The little boy behaved ungrateful. He should be happy that someone had taken him in at all.  
"I will gladly repeat myself," he said in his best teacher manner. "You will have to make do with the sofa. You also have a desk where you can do your homework and a chair. That should be enough for now. I remind you the alternative is the orphanage."  
Thorfinn didn't answer, but threw himself onto the sofa, where he buried his face in his pillow.  
Askeladd watched this for a while, but when Thorfinn made no effort to get up again, he decided to leave. It would probably be best to leave the little one alone for a few minutes.  
"Unpack your things and when you're done, come to the living room. If we're going to live together, there are some things we must resolve."  
Thorfinn murmured something into his pillow.  
"I didn't understand you," said Askeladd.  
Thorfinn raised his head. "I don't want to."  
"I'll give you ten minutes, then I want to see you in the living room."  
"But I don't want to!" Thorfinn repeated angrily, grabbed his backpack and threw it in Askeladd's direction.  
Askeladd, who had foreseen what was going to happen, had fled in time and had closed the door behind him so that the backpack fell limply down on it.

Thorfinn didn't come into the living room 10 minutes later. He cried and cried and didn't even know what he was crying about. Because his parents and his sister were dead? Because the rest of his family didn't want him? Because he just couldn't imagine a life with Askeladd?  
All he knew was the tears rolled down his cheeks incessantly, even though he had resolved to be brave and to show no weakness.  
A thick lump had formed in his throat and something in his chest contracted uncomfortably. He wished this feeling would disappear. He wished the tears would stop flowing, but he had no control over it. Whenever he thought he was calming down, new tears broke their way.  
He cried out angrily and pressed his face deeper into the pillow so Askeladd couldn't hear him.  
Couldn't he go back? Back to Iceland, back to his family, back to his previous life? Couldn't he wake up and realize that all this was just a terrible, far too real nightmare?  
It took almost an hour for Thorfinn to calm down. An hour until the tears had dried up and the pain had subsided. Askeladd hadn't come back to complain that he not obeyed. If he was really interested in him, he should have come into the room and admonished him, shouldn't he? Did he not care whether he obeyed him or not? Was he so little interested in him? Was he really only ballast?  
Thorfinn's eyelids were heavy, he could hardly keep them open, and his limbs felt like lead. The long crying had exhausted him. He felt drained.  
Tired as he was, he barely managed to turn on his side, then his eyelids finally closed and he sank into a deep but restless sleep.

_They were on their way to Denmark, to uncle Thorkell. Thorfinn's heart leapt wildly with excitement, for the journey was the high point of his life so far. As long as he could think back, he hadn't left the country. Even though his parents had explained to him that he had already been in Denmark as a baby.  
On the plane, Ylva had made him sit by the window so he could have a better view, and he was overwhelmed by everything he saw. The land beneath had become smaller and smaller and soon he had only seen the wide sea and the bright blue sky. The clouds had been most fascinating. The plane had flown between them, and Thorfinn had wondered if he could reach out and touch them if the windowdidn't block his way. Would they feel soft? Could one sit on them? They looked very comfortable!  
Now they were sitting in the car his father had rented, and Thorfinn's excitement had still not subsided. He was in another country and he would meet his great uncle. That was exciting!  
"Don't fidget about like that," Ylva warned him, sitting next to him in the back seat, looking out the window with a bored look. She had no idea how he was doing! She had been to Denmark several times before, and she had already met Uncle Thorkell years ago. She couldn't imagine how he was feeling. For her this trip wasn't as earth-shattering as it was for him!  
Thorfinn stuck out his tongue and Ylva reached over to him to pinch his sides.  
Their father and mother sat in front of them and talked. When Ylva started pinching him, her mother turned to them smiling and said they should have just a little more patience. They almost did it, and in less than an hour they would arrive at Thorkell's house.  
Ylva sighed in relief as they reached downtown, but gasped as her eyes fell on a car coming towards them on the same lane.  
"Is he crazy," she asked incredulously, and panic resonated in her voice. "How can he drive like that?" It was the last thing Thorfinn ever heard his sister say.  
At the same time as Ylva, her parents had also noticed the car. His mother cried out in horror.  
Thorfinn saw the car racing towards them faster and faster. It swayed back and forth, and even he, being so young, knew immediately that something was wrong. He looked at his father who had his fingers cramped tightly around the steering wheel, ready to pull it around. But diverting the car from the road would mean driving into the middle of the oncoming lane. It wouldn't change the situation. It would only affect other people.  
Ylva reached for Thorfinn's hand. She trembled.  
"Thorfinn, Ylva -" said his father, then the impact came.  
There was a loud bang, the unbearable sound of metal striking against metal. A painful jolt went through Thorfinn's body and Ylvas sweaty hand slipped away.  
His head banged against something hard.  
Then there was only blackness._

When Thorfinn opened his eyes, it was dark. He stood up, blinked sleepily and tried to orientate himself. Where was he? Hadn't he just been sitting in a car with his family? Where were his parents and Ylva?  
It took a few seconds until reality caught up with him again. He was with Askeladd. And the accident had happened about a week ago.  
Through the curtains outside the window fell the pale light of a street lamp. Had the curtains already been drawn when he entered the room with Askeladd in the afternoon? He didn't remember.  
Still dazed from sleep and the dream, he crawled off the sofa, ran to the door and looked for the light switch. He had to squint his eyes when the light of the lamp illuminated the room. It was glaring and blinded him for a moment. When he got used to the brightness and looked around again, he groaned. With artificial light the room ... his room ... really looked exactly like he imagined a prison cell.  
What time was it?  
Thorfinn reached for his backpack and pulled out his teddy bear, and his pajamas.  
He felt terrible. Not only because of the dream, but because he had disobeyed Askeladd. Now that his agitated emotions had calmed down, he realized how terribly he had behaved. He had embarrassed his parents.  
His father wouldn't have approved of his behavior and his mother would have been disappointed. Maybe Askeladd had only taken him in because nobody else wanted him. Maybe it was just a duty for him. But didn't it count that he had taken him in? Maybe they would never get along, but thanks to Askeladd he didn't have to go to the orphanage.  
Then why was it so difficult to be grateful?  
He put his teddy bear on the back of the sofa, then he opened the door and carefully peeked out into the corridor. At the other end, in the living room, the was still light. The clock above the kitchen door told him that it was almost 6 o'clock in the evening. He had slept late.  
He left the room quietly and tiptoed to the open living room door. There he found Askeladd sitting on the sofa. On a small coffee table there were all kinds of densely written papers spread out. Some of them covered with red annotations, others still completely untouched.  
Askeladd held one of the papers in his hands as Thorfinn took a step towards him, but put it aside when he noticed he was coming in.  
"Have you calmed down?" No admonition. No angry sparkle in his eyes. That was all he said.  
Thorfinn nodded, playing with the hem of his sweater and didn't know what to say.  
"Do you want something to eat?"  
"I'm not hungry."  
"Okay"  
Thorfinn came one step closer and looked at the papers.  
"Is this schoolwork?"  
Askeladd nodded. "I'm a teacher."  
"For which subject?" Thorfinn asked.  
"History"  
"Uh-huh."  
Thorfinn counted the seconds in which they didn't speak. Only the ticking of the clock in the corridor could be heard. The silence was uncomfortable for him and he was happy when Askeladd spoke again after a short time.  
"What did they tell you in the hospital? Are you fine again? Can you go to school normally?"  
"Yes", said Thorfinn. "I'm fine. But I should be careful and not do any sports for a while."  
Askeladd nodded. "Then you will go to school starting Tuesday."  
Thorfinn wasn't too keen on that. There were just too many changes at once, but he also knew he would have to go back to school at some point, so he didn't disagree. He was just wondering about something.  
"Why not on Monday?"  
"Because..." Askeladd cleared his throat and avoided his gaze. Then, after he had looked at the opposite wall for a short moment, he finally answered. His whole posture revealed that he felt very uncomfortable.  
"The funeral is on Monday."  
Thorfinn swallowed, but he had shed enough tears. He couldn't cry anymore, but his heart became heavy. Thorfinn recognized Askeladd didn't want to talk about this any longer so he asked a question which had been on his mind for hours.  
"What should I call you? Uncle Askeladd? But Uncle Thorkell told me you're not my uncle, and I honestly don't want to call you that either."  
The corner of Askeladd's mouth twitched.  
"You don't have to," he explained as he piled the papers up in front of him. "We're only distantly related to each other and if you can't consider me an uncle, I won't force you to call me that."  
"Then what do I call you?"  
"Just say Askeladd."  
Thorfinn frowned. He thought the name sounded strange all along.  
"Is that your real name?"  
"Not really"  
"What's your real name?"  
"Lucius."  
Thorfinn blinked in bewilderment. "It doesn't fit you."  
Askeladd didn't seem surprised.  
"I know," he said, and Thorfinn was amazed to see a bit of sadness flashing in Askeladd's eyes.  
It had only been a fleeting moment. This expression of grief had disappeared as quickly as it had come. Whoever Askeladd had just thought of, whoever he had lost, it must have been a long time ago.  
But it still hurt.


	4. The First Morning

When Thorfinn woke up the next morning and pushed the curtains aside, it was still dark outside. Only a narrow strip of light on the horizon indicated that the new day would soon begin. It was seven in the morning on a Saturday.  
Since he was too small to look out the window properly, he climbed on the chair first and then on his desk, which was right under the window. There he wrapped himself in his blanket and made himself comfortable.  
In the glow of the street lamps, the street below him was completely deserted. It must have been cold overnight, because the paths were covered with a thin layer of frost that sparkled in the light.  
Thorfinn noticed that he did not know this street. Thorkell and he had entered the house from the other side the day before.  
Thorfinn did not know how long he sat at the window, watching the city slowly awakening. But when he finally broke away from the street, which was slowly becoming more lively, the sun was already rising.  
He hopped down from the table and quietly opened the door. It was silent in the apartment. Askeladd seemed to be sleeping still.  
The day before, Thorfinn had been too excited to take a closer look at Askeladd's apartment, but now curiosity seized him. After all, he would spend the next years of his life here.  
Fortunately, not every room looked as bare as the room in which Askeladd had put him.  
The living room with its large sofa, two armchairs and a small coffee table was quite comfortable. There also was a large bookshelf that was filled to bursting and a television. It was not as nicely decorated as the living room in Iceland, where family photos had hung and where his mother had sometimes hung drawings of Ylva and him, but it was not ugly either. It suited Askeladd, who as a teacher was certainly a thoroughly practical person.   
In the kitchen Thorfinn dared to look in the refrigerator and got a fright. It was filled from top to bottom with the most delicious, but also the most unhealthy things he could imagine. He was absolutely sure that half of them would not have gotten into his parents' house. It wasn't like he had never eaten a frozen pizza, but it had been an exception. His mother had always cooked.  
Nevertheless, his mouth watered when he saw the pizzas and the ice cream, the chocolate bars and the pudding. What child could resist? Should he just steal a candy bar? Before breakfast? Would Askeladd notice?  
But the candy bars were on the top shelf of the refrigerator and even on tiptoe Thorfinn could not reach them. Frustrated he gave up. Of course, he could have climbed on a chair, but somehow he felt that Askeladd, although he had all these delicious things in the refrigerator, would not have been thrilled about a snack before breakfast. So he continued his exploratory tour of the apartment.

~*~

When Askeladd awoke, it was shortly before 9 o'clock. In a few minutes his alarm clock should have rung, but Askeladd was the kind of person who woke up at the right time by himself. Yawning, he sat up and looked out the window.  
When Thorfinn had fallen asleep in the afternoon, he had sneaked into the boy's room and closed the curtains so that he would not wake up sooner than his body saw fit. But Askeladd himself did not like curtains. He enjoyed waking up at night and seeing the moon and the dark treetops. Sometimes a bird would sit on the windowsill. At the moment there was a faint late autumn sun in the sky, but low clouds were approaching. It would probably become a grey day again.  
A loud clang and a frightened scream made Askeladd jump. What had the little one done?   
Soon he was out of bed, put on his robe and found Thorfinn in the kitchen. At his feet a broken glass. On the table was a packet of juice.  
At Askeladds questioningly raised eyebrow, Thorfinn pulled his head in.  
"I was thirsty," he explained. "And the glasses are so high up. On the chair I somehow got hold of one but I dropped it."  
Askeladd took a deep breath. This was the first day he was in charge of Thorfinn, and he started right away with chaos.  
"Why didn't you just tell me that you were thirsty?" he asked.  
Thorfinn made big eyes. "I didn't think that was a reason to wake you. I saw where the drinks were yesterday and thought I could manage alone."  
"Well, apparently not."  
He sounded gruffer than he wanted to. Thorfinn sulked, got down on his knees and started to pick up the pieces.  
"Stop it," Askeladd interrupted him. "I'll do it. You brush your teeth and get dressed. We'll have breakfast out."  
"Out?"  
"Yes, a friend of mine owns a café. Sometimes I visit him on weekends and I think you should meet him."  
Askeladd could not tell the truth. That he had to talk to Bjorn, because he wanted to ask him for help. He had told him about Thorfinn. And while Askeladd himself had been very confident at that time, Bjorn had smiled at his exuberant motivation.  
 _You will be completely overwhelmed_ , he had said. _You and raising a child? You never wanted children!_  
 _I can do it_ , Askeladd had answered pompously. _How hard can it be to raise a child? With a little bit of planning..._  
Bjorn had laughed. _You and your perfectly thought-out life. If you really take the little one in, you can forget that. Who do you think you are? A child is not a machine. You can't adapt the boy to your screwed-up lifestyle._  
Askeladd had shrugged off Bjorn's comment, but as soon as he went shopping he realized that he might have been right. Bjorn was younger than him only in his mid-twenties, but Askeladd was convinced that he was the more reasonable of them. Not that he would ever say that to his face.  
"Come on" Thorfinn had still not moved from the spot. "I told you to get dressed."  
"But I wanted cornflakes for breakfast," Thorfinn replied disappointedly.  
Ah, so he had been snooping around.  
Askeladd fished three of the larger shards from the pile on the ground and threw them into the garbage. He would have to sweep up the rest.  
"You can still eat the cornflakes tomorrow. I'll give you half an hour to get ready. "And today I expect you to do what I tell you."

~*~

Thorfinn did what Askeladd demanded. Somehow he felt that this time he could not afford to disobey. He ran to the bathroom, washed a little and brushed his teeth. Then he went to his room and changed his clothes. Even before Askeladd had finished dressing himself, Thorfinn stood in the hallway and waited for him. Only his hair he had forgotten to comb. His full head of hair, which his mother had always brushed so lovingly, stood out all directions.  
Askeladd looked at him with a grin. "Haven't you forgotten something?"  
Thorfinn looked at him without understanding.  
"Your hair"  
"Oh", Thorfinn did and tried to comb it with his fingers, which only made it more tousled. He should probably take the brush after all.

A few minutes later the two of them were standing in front of Askeladd's car, but no matter how much Askeladd talked to him, Thorfinn could not get in. His feet did not move an inch. Although the car looked completely different from his father's rental car, he felt as if he could hear the terrible sound of the impact again. The scream of his mother, the voice of his father trying to tell him and Ylva something. Something that Thorfinn would never know what it was.  
He trembled. Begging, he looked up at Askeladd and shook his head, hoping that Askeladd would understand.  
He could not put into words how he felt. He was petrified. Frozen with fear, trapped in the memory of the events of a few days ago, the images of which were still too fresh in his mind.  
No, he could not get into this car! Maybe he would never get into a car again.  
Askeladd looked at him wordlessly for a while, then shrugged his shoulders and Thorfinn breathed a sigh of relief.  
"We can walk if you want to. It will take longer, but-"  
"I like to walk," Thorfinn said and hopped past him. Suddenly he could move again. And he used his newly acquired ability to put as much distance between himself and this metal monster as was possible. "Which way do we have to go? Through the park?"  
"Yes, through the park," agreed Askeladd. "But Thorfinn, listen."  
"Yes?"  
"Starting Tuesday you will go to school. And it isn't just around the corner. You will have to get into that car, whether you want to or not."  
Thorfinn petrified again, shook his head in bewilderment.  
Askeladd sighed. Thorfinn could see that he was overwhelmed. That he did not know how to react to him. No one knew that. No one understood what was going on inside him when he thought back to the accident. Not even he himself. His body no longer obeyed him then. It was not that he did not want to get into the car. He could not!  
Askeladd looked at him thoughtfully, drove through his beard and sighed again. He looked at him as if he were an arithmetical problem he could not solve. A word that he read, but whose meaning was not clear to him. A thing he did not understand.  
"Thorfinn, I understand why you won't get in."  
You don't, Thorfinn thought. I don't understand it myself. I know it's nonsense never to want to get into a car again.  
"But I can't send you to school on foot. Even if I have to force you into the car, you'll end up in it."  
"I'm gonna scream." Thorfinn had uttered the words before he had really thought about it. It no longer sounded frightened, it sounded defiant. And perhaps, he was just that. He did not feel that Askeladd was really trying to understand him. He just saw a child who had experienced something bad and who needed help. He fulfilled his duty. He gave him a home. But he did not bother to want to learn to understand Thorfinn. To want to get to know him. That upset him!  
And that it upset him, frightened him.   
It was not so long ago that he had decided not to like Askeladd and everything connected with him. But that had already changed. Apart from his empty prison cell, the apartment was nice, and while Askeladd was still asleep, Thorfinn had imagined what it would be like to live there. He had filled his room with new furniture and old things from Iceland that Thorkell would hopefully bring with him.  
His initial hatred had evaporated overnight. He wanted to like the apartment. And he wanted to try to like Askeladd. But he really seemed to see in him only atask that had to be accomplished.  
"Then scream," Askeladd lightly replied to Thorfinn's threat and marched past him without turning back to him. Thorfinn stayed in place for a few moments before he ran after him with a heavy heart.  
It was good that Askeladd did not insist on being called uncle. He was not his uncle. They were not family and never would be. Askeladd felt obliged to give him a home. And Thorfinn ... Thorfinn felt obliged to be grateful to Askeladd for that. That was all. Yes, exactly. That was their relationship to each other. To be liked and accepted by Askeladd was not important.   
That was what Thorfinn tried to tell himself. But he could not prevent Askeladd's coldness from gnawing at him and making him sad.

~*~

The _Café Bjorn_ , yes, it was really called that, was located about 20 minutes walk from Askeladds apartment. It was not located in the city center, which Bjorn could never have afforded with the little income he had, but was a little outside of all the hustle and bustle and the busy streets.  
Confined between a small handicrafts shop and an antiquarian bookstore, which also had hardly any customers, the café was almost invisible. Most of the people who visited were old acquaintances of Bjorn and yes, there was also a certain regular clientele who lived in the immediate vicinity, but spontaneously, no one ever strayed there.  
Askeladd suspected that Bjorn was upset about this. They never talked about money matters, but he knew that it was not good for the café, which had been a dream of his for so long. He was convinced that the income was just enough to pay the rent for the premises, which was far too high even in this unfavorable position.  
But Askeladd did not visit Bjorn regularly because he imagined that the money he spent on him would help him make ends meet. No, he came to the café because it was good. Bjorn made everything himself. The coffee, the sandwiches, the cakes. There wasn't much choice, but it varied from day to day. Askeladd thought it was charming and he did not regret telling him to make his dream come true when they had first met and Bjorn was nothing more than a waiter.  
When Askeladd and Thorfinn entered the café, they were the only guests, but the three cakes at the counter were missing a few pieces and some of the sandwiches must have been sold already.  
"Pick a table. You see, we have the free choice," Askeladd said to Thorfinn, who looked around with interest. Bjorn's café was simple but cozy furnished. The floor was covered with dark red carpet, the walls were brick and completely unplastered. On the wall between two tables hung a large picture of a forest landscape, which Bjorn had found at a flea market shortly before the café opened. Fittingly, a bear peeked out from behind one of the trees.  
Thorfinn ran towards the picture, looked at it for a while and then sat down at one of the tables on the wall while Askeladd walked around the counter and looked into the kitchen. If there had been other guests in the store, he would not have done so, but if they were alone, he did not care that he had no business back here as a guest.  
Bjorn was just about to take an apple pie out of the oven.  
"Surprise"  
"Askeladd!" Bjorn turned around. But not before he had safely put down the hot sheet and closed the oven door. He was conscientious. "I _am_ actually surprised. I didn't think you were coming over today. Didn't the boy arrive yesterday?"  
"His name is Thorfinn. I have him with me."  
"Oh" Bjorn ran over to him and looked past him into the café. Thorfinn sat astonishingly well-behaved in his chair and bounced his legs a little.  
"Sweet, the little one. He looks quite reasonable."  
"Reasonable?" Askeladd made a face. "Yesterday he made quite a fuss, and I think he's going to make a lot of demands on me."  
Bjorn showed his teeth and patted him on the shoulder, which made Askeladd roll his eyes. "I told you this wouldn't be a piece of cake."  
"And since when are you the expert on raising children?  
"I'm not. I just know how messed up you are. And I'm happy to help you with advice and support. That's what you're here for, right?"  
Askeladd nodded. "Perhaps. - I'll help myself, okay?"  
"Sure, go ahead," said Bjorn, but he could have saved himself the answer. Askeladd had already turned around, grabbed a cup and the coffee pot on the counter, and poured himself a drink.

~*~

Thorfinn liked the café. He liked the big picture on the wall, especially the bear hiding on it, and he liked that it was so quiet and secluded. The bustle on the streets had been overwhelming. Thorfinn came from a small town. So much hectic was exciting, but also exhausting.  
"Do you like the painting?" Bjorn stood at the table next to Thorfinn and looked at it lovingly. "I like it, too. I just had to buy it."  
"Because of the bear?" Thorfinn asked, without averting his gaze from it.  
"Yes, that too. But I think it radiates a very special atmosphere. I get a bit homesick when I look at it. I love the forest. Life in the big city sometimes gets too much for me. Then I like to go out into nature.“  
Thorfinn looked at the picture very carefully now and let Bjorn's words run through his mind. The longer he looked at it - the dense trees, the bear, the small birds in the trees, which he only now noticed - the more something contracted inside him.   
"I think I'm a little homesick too. I don't like big cities either," he noted.  
"So?" Bjorn smiled. "Then we have something in common. I'm Bjorn."  
Thorfinn looked up at Bjorn cautiously. The man was taller than Askeladd and younger. He had distinctive facial features which, combined with his height and his beard, could seem threatening, but he smiled so kindly at Thorfinn that he could not help smiling back.   
As Bjorn reached out one of his large hands to him, Thorfinn carefully grabbed it and shook it. He was not quite sure about him yet, but unlike Askeladd, he met him at eye level. He liked that.  
"I am Thorfinn."  
"Your Danish is quite good, Thorfinn. I know your parents come from here, but I thought you spoke it worse. Icelandic isn't easier for you?"  
Thorfinn was a bit offended at first. Why should he not speak Danish well? Just because he was a child? But then he realized that not every child had grown up bilingual and Bjorn had meant his words as a compliment.  
"I can do both," Thorfinn said proudly, hiding the fact that he could actually speak Danish just a little bit better because his father and mother usually spoke in Danish.  
"That's great," replied Bjorn, and Thorfinn thought it sounded honest and was pleased with the praise. Askeladd's friend was really much nicer than him. He had feared that he was as cool as the man who had taken him in.   
"Then would you like to eat something now? That's why you came here," Bjorn asked and pointed to the counter behind him, where Askeladd shamelessly drank his second cup of coffee.  
"Oh yes!" Thorfinn jumped down from his chair and took a few big steps to reach the counter. He was already starving! After all, he had not eaten anything the previous evening. Just the sight of the sandwiches and cakes made his mouth water. Askeladd had been right. The cornflakes could wait for another day.  
Thorfinn was about to decide on a sandwich with ham when Bjorn took the apple pie from the kitchen and put it next to the other three pies at the counter.  
Thorfinn swallowed. Forgotten was the sandwich. Who could say no to an apple pie?


	5. Something ends and something begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I'm back with another chapter. I'm sorry it took me quite a while this time. I actually wrote this back in December but then Christmas and all kinds of real life stuff were happening. Anyway, now the chapter is here and I already finished the next two so that i hope the break between the next ones will not be as long.  
> Have fun!

When Thorfinn and Askeladd entered the church, all eyes were on them. Every member of the family knew, of course, that Askeladd had taken Thorfinn in, and even before they took their seats, a murmur went through the hall.  
Thorfinn felt uncomfortable. As if his family's funeral was not bad enough for him, he now felt like an animal in the zoo, being gawked at from all sides. Mostly pityingly, sometimes scornfully. He felt the impulse to just turn around and run away, but Askeladd had put a hand on his back and pushed him forward.  
Shortly after they took their seats, Thorkell sat down next to them. Demonstratively, and with his arms folded so that both, Askeladd and Thorfinn, were shielded from the eyes of onlookers.  
However, he could not stop the whispering of the guests. It continued until the ceremony began.  
A few words were spoken, there was singing. But Thorfinn could not concentrate on anything. The minutes blurred into each other as he stared with burning eyes at the three coffins in the room. The coffins in which lay the only people who were familiar to him. And from whom he now had to say goodbye forever.  
As they made their way to the cemetery, Thorfinn's eyes fell on his grandfather. He knew immediately that he was his grandfather, because he had seen his face, even though it was much younger then, in some old family photos of his mother.  
His hair was streaked with gray, his beard had grown longer, but it was unmistakably him. His whole posture exuded authority. Unlike the others present, whose gazes he could always feel uncomfortably on himself, Sigvaldi's gaze was directed forward. This hit Thorfinn harder than the whispering behind held hands. For Sigvaldi he did not exist at all.  
Thorfinn did not know what he had hoped for. He had been aware, after all, that his grandfather did not want him. And yet ... a small part of him had assumed he might change his mind. Sigvaldi's ignorance was what brought tears to his eyes in the cemetery. But he did not want to cry in front of all these strangers, so he gritted his teeth bravely. Even when Askeladd and he silently made their way back.  
Only when Askeladd closed the apartment door behind them and they were alone did Thorfinn let his feelings run free. He could not have held back the tears any longer. Without bothering to take off his shoes, he rushed into his room and threw himself on the sofa, his teddy bear tightly in his arms.  
Between his sobs, Thorfinn heard Askeladd take off his jacket and shoes in the hallway. Only a few moments later, he felt his weight on the edge of the sofa. Once he took a deep breath and Thorfinn thought he would say anything but Askeladd remained silent.  
It was Thorfinn who finally brought the unspoken words between them to his lips. They tasted bitter and salty, like the tears that were still streaming incessantly from his eyes.  
Sniffling, he turned on his back and looked at Askeladd.  
"They hate me."  
Askeladd shook his head.  
"Yes, they do, they hate me. Grandpa ... he never once looked at me. He ignored me!"  
"He doesn't hate you," Askeladd replied, reaching out his hand to Thorfinn. Conflicting emotions reflected on his face before he withdrew it. "How could he hate you? He doesn't know you."  
"Then why didn't he even look at me?"  
Askeladd cleared his throat, avoiding Thorfinn's gaze. He said nothing to refute his accusation. _Of course not_ , Thorfinn thought, _because it's the truth. He knows that as well as I do._  
They were silent for a few uncomfortable seconds, then Askeladd sighed and stood up.  
"I think you should start changing your clothes. I'd better not catch you in bed with your shoes on again."  
_What bed?_ , Thorfinn wanted to ask, but he refrained from commenting and just nodded. He could well do without a lecture from Askeladd now.  
Wiping away the tears, he climbed off the bed to change.

~*~

Askeladd really did not know what to answer when Thorfinn asked him why Sigvaldi had completely ignored him. He had no idea what had happened between Helga, Thors, and Sigvaldi years ago. It had never interested him.  
But now he was responsible for Thorfinn. It was only natural that the boy was worried and looking for answers; that Sigvaldi's behavior must make on him the impression that he hated him. But was hate not too harsh a word? Could it really be that? Hate? Askeladd doubted it.  
What he did know, however, was that Sigvaldi was an unreasonable stubborn man. A cruel stubborn one, even. His behavior toward Thorfinn had hardly anything to do with Christian charity, and yet the funeral had taken place in a church. Askeladd could not remember that anyone in the family had been particularly devout.  
But as a rear admiral in the Danish navy, Sigvaldi was to some degree in the public eye, and the fact that three of his family members had died in a tragic car accident was no well-kept secret. This information had passed through the media a time or two in recent days. As cruel as it sounded, Askeladd was convinced that the large church funeral with many guests, whom even Askeladd had never met, was definitely also a staging for the press. Sigvaldi always cared for what the public was thinking of him and his family.  
Askeladd was glad that Thorfinn was still too small to understand all this. He had only had eyes for the coffins of his loved ones anyway.

"I don't want to go in there," Thorfinn said for the third time, shaking his head vigorously. "I said I'm not getting in that car. Leave me alone."  
Askeladd rolled his eyes. "And I said you can complain all you want, you're going to get in."  
"I'll scream!"  
"Then scream!"  
Thorfinn wrenched his mouth open, but before he could make another sound, Askeladd had grabbed him, put him in the car, and fastened his seatbelt. Thorfinn could only kick helplessly.  
It was Tuesday. The rest of the previous day went by surprisingly calm. After Thorfinn had calmed down, Askeladd and he had left to meet Bjorn. On the one hand to distract Thorfinn from the funeral and the gloomy thoughts about his grandfather, on the other hand to go shopping together, because when Bjorn had learned from Askeladd what was slumbering in his refrigerator, he had been horrified.  
Askeladd had felt silly going shopping with Bjorn in tow, but he had also realized that it was necessary. By the time they had returned in the late afternoon, Thorfinn was in a slightly better mood and helped Bjorn, who had decided to cook, in the kitchen. Meanwhile Askeladd was correcting some of his students' tests, and before they knew it, evening had arrived.  
Now Askeladd threw the teddy bear into Thorfinn's lap and closed the car door indignantly. "If you're scared, cuddle that one. I'm sure it'll help."  
"As if that would help!" cried Thorfinn in exasperation, but pressed the teddy to his chest anyway as Askeladd got behind the steering wheel.  
Askeladd knew he was being rough with Thorfinn. He could hardly blame the boy for being afraid to get back into a car. But they could not take all the time in the world to get him used to it again, either. Going by car was the easiest way to get to school. He definitely did not feel like getting up earlier just to squeeze into a crowded bus with Thorfinn. And he could hardly send him to school alone. So the only possible way was the hard way. Thorfinn would get through it all right and lose his fear after a few rides.  
"Can we go?"  
"No," Thorfinn said miserably, but Askeladd remained adamant and started the car.  
While they drove, Thorfinn did not speak. The silence was uncomfortable for Askeladd and he thought that maybe music would calm the boy down a bit, so he turned on the radio. To his chagrin, only some bad songs from the current charts were playing. He should have put in a CD of his own, but to make the ride more bearable for Thorfinn, it would do.  
It was a cold morning, downright freezing. Frost glistened on the roads, but the sky, which was slowly starting to get lighter, promised a sunny and cloudless day.  
The streets were busy at this hour. The whole town seemed to be on the move to get to school or work. Askeladd was really glad he was not stuck on public transportation with Thorfinn.  
A glance in the rearview mirror told him that the boy had his eyes shut tight. The hands were trembling. Askeladd was surprised to feel a small twinge in his chest area. He felt sorry for the little one, he could not deny that.  
Following an intuition, he drove a detour and finally parked the car in front of _Bjorn's Café_. Thorfinn opened his eyes in confusion.  
"Are we there yet?"  
"Almost," Askeladd said, unbuckling his seat belt. "We still have a little time, and because of your nagging this morning, you didn't eat breakfast. I'll buy you something."  
Thorfinn looked as if he couldn't decide between relief at having stopped and fear of having to go on again. He had stopped shaking, but his fingers still clenched around the stuffed animal.  
Askeladd sighed, reached back and ruffled Thorfinn's hair. "You were brave. And you'll make it the last bit.”

A little later, Askeladd entered the café. A teenager waited in front of him at the counter. An older couple was being served by Bjorn, who looked up when the little bell above the front door began to ring.  
"Good morning," he said cheerfully, grabbing two pieces of crumb cake for the couple.  
"Morning," Askeladd grumbled, then glanced over his shoulder. He had parked just outside the entrance so he could keep an eye on Thorfinn.  
When the couple and the teenager had left, Bjorn came out from behind the counter and looked at Thorfinn through the glass door.  
"He's sitting in the car. Not bad. That must have taken a lot of sensitivity. How did you manage it?"  
"Without sensitivity," Askeladd replied tersely. He knew Bjorn was teasing him, so he changed the subject and pointed to the counter. "What can you recommend? He hasn't had breakfast yet."  
Bjorn grinned broadly.  
"What is it?"  
"You want to buy your boy something tasty to eat as a reward for being so brave?"  
Askeladd snorted and rolled his eyes. "I want to buy him something because, unlike me, he has to eat more than coffee for breakfast. - And he's not my boy."  
"I get it," Bjorn went on, then fished Askeladd two sandwiches from the counter. "Here, these are on the house."  
"Thanks. But one is enough."  
"No, two is fine," Bjorn said with a stern look before putting the sandwiches in a bag and handing them to Askeladd. "Even you need to have a little more than a coffee for breakfast sometimes."

~*~

The school was a large, modern building with gray exterior walls interrupted now and then by a row of windows through which the light of the now-risen sun flooded the interior.  
As in the streets of the city, the place was bustling with activity. Thorfinn was amazed. This was no comparison to the small village school he had attended in Iceland! Students of all ages scurried past him and Askeladd, chatting about the previous day's TV program or homework. Some of them greeted Askeladd politely or nodded at him.  
Thorfinn was nervous. His life had changed so much in a very short time that he felt dizzy for a moment. Only now, as he stood with Askeladd in front of the school, did he realize that a completely new daily routine ... a completely new life lay before him. He knew no one here. And no one knew him.  
The nervousness Thorfinn felt was only overshadowed by the relief of finally getting out of the car. He tried to ignore the fact that he would have to climb into this metal monster again in the afternoon ... and every day from then on ... no, he really did not want to think about it just now.  
He watched Askeladd take his briefcase from the passenger seat, check again to see if they had forgotten anything in the car, and then close the door.  
Thorfinn ran his fingers through his hair. His father had also sometimes tousled his hair. Thorfinn had always seen it as a gesture of affection. It was something that made clear to him how much his father loved him, and he remembered fondly the big, strong hand that touched his head.  
Askeladd's hand had felt different from his father's. It was smaller and the movement had been frantic. Awkward.  
Yet it had triggered something in Thorfinn. For that one moment, he had felt that Askeladd understood him. For that one moment, he seemed to have been more than just a duty to him.  
"Do you have everything?" asked Askeladd, and Thorfinn realized that now that they were on the school grounds, he actually seemed like a teacher. His whole demeanor had changed. He was no longer the overwhelmed young man who had suddenly become foster father to a six-year-old boy. Here he was in his element. This was where he knew his stuff. This was the life he had led until now.  
Thorfinn reached for his school backpack and nodded.  
"Yes!"  
"Let's go then. Classes start soon, and before I can get to my class, I have to drop you off with your teacher."  
The school building, which had looked like a big block to Thorfinn from the outside, turned out to be very winding on the inside. Thorfinn had already lost his bearings after the second corner they turned, because all the hallways looked identical. Doors lined up, students scurried through the corridors on their way to their classrooms. An older student, who seemed to be in a hurry, bumped into Thorfinn. There was no apology. The older boy had turned the next corner faster than Thorfinn could shout an indignant comment after him. Askeladd, who was walking ahead, had not noticed.  
At some point they reached a door on the second floor in front of which a young, friendly looking woman with red curly hair was waiting for them. When their eyes met, she laughed and small dimples formed at the corners of her mouth.  
"Mr. Castus!" she said delightedly, brushing one of her strands of hair behind her ear. Thorfinn was pretty sure she blushed a little around the nose when Askeladd wished her a good morning. He just did not quite understand why. His mother had sometimes blushed when his father had complimented her or when he gave her a little kiss on the cheek. Askeladd had done nothing of the sort, and Thorfinn did not think they were close enough for him to ever do that. Still, her cheeks glowed.  
"So that's him," she then said, addressing Thorfinn. "The boy from Iceland."  
"Hello," he said as Askeladd unobtrusively pinched his side. "I'm Thorfinn."  
"And I'm Miss Andersen. I hope you settle in quickly with us and make friends soon, Thorfinn."  
Then she held out her hand to him and led him into the classroom. Before they entered, however, she turned back to Askeladd. "Our class will be over earlier than yours. If you would like, I can take care of Thorfinn until you can go home with him."  
"That would be very nice. I had actually been thinking about that."  
"Then I'll be glad to do it!" exclaimed Miss Andersen, positively beaming with happiness. Thorfinn thought that she did not look like an adult at all, but rather as if she were still a student herself. Askeladd did not seem to notice, or did not want to notice, that she was acting strangely toward him. He pointed out to Thorfinn that he should not make trouble - as if he was always asking for it! - then waved him off and turned on his heel to go to his class, while Thorfinn was led into the room by his teacher.  
The next few hours were pure torture for Thorfinn. As the new kid in class, he was the sensation par excellence. The reason why he had changed schools had obviously got around and during the breaks he did not have a quiet minute. He was constantly asked about the accident.  
"Did you faint?" asked a boy with big jug ears that Thorfinn wished to stretch.  
"Did it hurt?" a girl wanted to know.  
"Is it true that you don't have a mom and dad now, and that's why you live with Mr. Castus?"  
Thorfinn gritted his teeth bravely. He did not want to cause trouble, but the questions upset him. Why could they not leave him alone? Why did they have to be so nosy? Did they really not understand that their questions were hurting him, or was that exactly why they were questioning him?  
Miss Andersen shooed the children to their seats for the beginning of the next lesson and admonished them not to ask Thorfinn such tactless questions. Some of them obeyed and lost interest in their new classmate for the rest of the school day. Others were not so easily shaken off. Instead of asking direct questions, they began by being downright nice to him. They asked if he wanted some of their sandwiches, even though he was about to eat the sandwich Askeladd had brought him from _Bjorn's Café_. They lent him pencils when he was missing a color in art class. Or they just looked at him pityingly when they thought he was oblivious to their stares.  
Thorfinn hated this treatment even more than the tactless questions. Their pity reminded him of the nurses in the hospital.  
Thorfinn noticed almost nothing of the lessons that day. When he was not feeling harassed by his classmates, his thoughts drifted inexorably. Thorkell had told him and Askeladd at the funeral that Sigvaldi would be traveling to Iceland with some other family members at the end of the week to take care of Helga and Thors' affairs. Thorkell had therefore asked Thorfinn to make a list of things he really wanted to keep. He would try to bring as many of them with him to Denmark as possible.  
The teddy bear he had talked to Thorkell about earlier was, of course, at the top of the list, but Thorfinn also hoped to get back one or two other little things from his room to make his prison cell in Askeladd's apartment a bit cozier.  
So while his classmates were doing math, Thorfinn was in a completely different world. Lost in thought, he looked out the window, watching the sun's rays glisten the wet asphalt floor.  
Tomorrow he would have to concentrate on his lessons, he knew. He had noticed that Miss Andersen had taken note of his inattention, but had been nice enough to let him get away with it today. Tomorrow that would change. Then there would be no turning back and he would have to fit into this new life. He was sure it would not be easy. Just at the thought of having his new classmates around him every day now, he felt a spark of anger flare up inside him. He did not know how long he could be reasonable, how long he could manage to stifle spiteful responses to their questions and looks.  
But even if he felt unsafe, he still wanted to get back to a normal life.  
He squinted up at the sun. His parents and Ylva would want that too, he was convinced. That he laughed and played with other children again. That he would come home in the afternoon, do his homework, and tell stories about his day at school over dinner.  
That could not be so hard. It would all work out somehow.  
Right?


End file.
